Random Poem (3 June 2013)

There is a boy and a girl
(who may or may not be lovers)
drinking Sprite across from me –
strangers with strange countenances.
Aren’t we all strangers to each other
at first? Before we learned
how to love and understand
that drinking Sprite is common to us all.

Random Poem (3-4 June 2013)

I am pregnant with words

waiting to spill out

from the fatness of my belly.

My breasts are heavy

with vowels that threaten to spurt.

They fill my stomach, my mouth, my ears

like little cats struggling to yelp out.

My uterus is stretched by consonants;

and I crave for vowels.

Sentences and phrases bear me down.

I stuff my face with food but it is not enough.

God knows when this gestation will end.

Do my doodles and scribbles make me a poet?

But “poet” is only a word.

And I love words;

hence there is nothing “only” about it.


Been watching porn videos downloaded from the Internet (G’s doing, completely not mine) since yesterday.

One in particular I liked, titled “Late for Work” starring Keira and Seth (which may not even be their names).

Just realized that there is such a thing as “good” porn and “bad” porn. The “good” can touch you in a “good” way. Like the one I mentioned. I particularly liked how the two actors looked. They must be in their late teens or early 20″s. Their bodies still have that yummy tightness that will eventually sag once they reach their 4th decade on planet earth.

The boy (and he was a boy on the cusp of manhood) had this deliciously cute face with the most earnest of expressions. Almost innocent. That naughty tilting up of the lips, slightly slanting eyes. His body is almost adolescent but holding such promise. The girl had big eyes, small lips and small breasts on one thin girlish body. She makes soft, high-pitched sounds when she orgasms.

They had chemistry, the girl and the boy — oops, they do have names, Keira and Seth. The chemistry is the most erotic part and not the penis-in-the-vagina.

Is this a sign that I’m getting old? That I can look at and write about a porn film with a straight face, without blushing. I couldn’t have done this 10 years ago. Well 10 years ago I was a virgin. Maybe that’s a factor. The girl I was wouldn’t have been able to write about porn and sex without putting in a lot of euphemisms in her prose.

What brought this frankness? The “nice girl” part of me says “having been in love”. The “slut girl” , on the other hand, thinks that it’s all about having been fucked and having been fucked good.

I so love that word – the F word, as the prudish ones say. It can hold so many meanings, so many contexts.

If writing is all about falling in love, I am now in the part where I took my clothes off.

Why We Write (F. Sionil Jose’s POV)

I love Mr. Francisco Sionil Jose! I’m a huge fan!

One of my bestfriends introduced me to him when she had to ask for his help with our Komunikasyon I/II-project in college.

I first met him in Padre Faura, in his bookshop, Solidaridad. Mr. Jose was an octogenarian with the cutest smile.

He is very insightful, and his writings are imbued with a strong sense of country which I love. He is married to the former Ms. Teresita Jovellanos whose father was a doctor.

This is what Mr. Jose has to say about writing: “It is this search for justification, for the explanation of what we are doing, which will then give depth to what we do, not just relevance which we seek because we want to go beyond the confines of our skins, to participate in the larger drama of existence.” (from the essay Filipino English: The Literature as We Think It, F. Sionil Jose, Gleanings from a Life in Literature, University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2011).

He is still writing! And this is from his latest column at The Philippine Star. Food for thought.


The Rosales Saga is a 5-book series and is Mr. Jose’s opus. I have re-read Mass and The Pretenders so many times I can write fan fiction on them!
(picture courtesy of Wikipedia)

f sionil jose

Mr. Jose in his hometown Rosales, Pangasinan
(picture courtesy of http://mycitymysm.com)

Vice Ganda Simply Did NOT Get it

Vice Ganda Simply Did NOT Get it

I watched his public apology on Showtime. For all his “erudition” and  self-aggrandizement, he really did not get why people were outraged at his joke involving Ms. Jessica Soho.

I wish he’d read Patricia’s article.

Unfortunately, even if he does so, I’m not sure if his celebrity-addled brain will grasp what Ms. Evangelista is talking about.

Use “ginamit” in a sentence (additional notes 6-22-2013)

Use “ginamit” in a sentence

“… at the Senate hearings on the Reproductive Health (RH) Bill, some legislators — all men — expressed their discomfort about the inclusion of the phrase “safe and satisfying sex life” in the RH Bill.

The reasons for their opposition included:

“If we don’t put it there, will it mean that people will no longer have a satisfying sex life?”

“Well, when I make love to my wife, she’s always satisfied.”

Another man, Sen Alan Cayetano (brother of Sen Pia Cayetano, one of the principal authors of the RH Bill) explained, “Before, and even now, there is a belief in some men that it is their right to ‘use’ their wife. So we don’t need to be shy in admitting that we also need to give enjoyment to women. Are men supposed to be the only ones to enjoy?”

The inclusion of the phrase in “a safe, satisfying sex life” is not an addition to the RH Bill made on a whim by advocates and pro-RH legislators.”

What can I say, I love Ana Santos!

A lot of women I see at the clinic do refer to having sex as “ginamit ako” (he used me). It makes me feel exasperated and sad at the same time.

The sad part is I do point out that their bodies are not objects to be used by their husbands, boyfriends or lovers. There is a Tagalog word, “pagtatalik” which I think should be used instead. And then they look at me with blank expressions on their faces.

That made me question myself — considering the violence inherent in these women’s lives, wouldn’t the word “ginamit” sometimes reflect what is real and my insistence in making them use a PC (politically correct) term just a reflection of my bourgeois sentimentality that wants to sanitize everything?

These women, they scrape and scrounge everyday just to put food on the table. Their husbands/lovers as much as they might care for their wives, their women (another un-PC term) are often helpless considering the social and economic conditions that they are in. Words are just words, yes. And no.  They are a reflection of what is real or the Truth (whatever that may be), but are they also sometimes like a self-fulfilling prophecy?